Unsteady
by scydias
Summary: Lydia finally acknowledges her feelings for Stiles. So whats next?


**This is a short first chapter in Lydia's perspective introducing the initial story. It's basically getting an idea of her mindset before jumping into the story, since I want to do my best to make this seem realistic to Stiles and Lydia's characters. The reason it's generally hard for me to read Stydia fanfics is because Lydia's perspective doesn't seem true to her actual character (mostly because of Jeff's lack in giving her a perspective in depth enough to go off of), so I just basically tried to do my best to go off of what Lydia is actually like!**

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Stiles Stilinski. He was just some stupid kid with a buzzcut that had, had crush on her since third grade. Nothing more and nothing less. At least that was what her initial thought process was, but suddenly one day she turned around and realized, "Shit why do I have butterflies in my stomach? Why am I questioning my feelings all of the sudden? Why am I no longer sure I don't feel anything for this guy?" But that was aside from the fact that they had literally gone to hell and back on multiple occasions within the past year. It was just easier to sweep that under the rug, though, because as soon as she opened that part of herself up, even just to herself, there was no going back.

Stiles. Stiles. Stiles. Why the fuck did they call him Stiles anyway? This guy had been here since they were in the sandbox. Back when she barely knew of his name. But he turned out to be the same guy who listened to her, even when she sounded insane. He was the guy who had saved her life on multiple occasions, despite the fact that he could barely save himself. He was the guy who reassured her, who encouraged her, who lifted her spirits. He never gave up on her, and somehow over time she got used to him, used to that feeling he gave her, the security she felt when he was around. Because she knew he would always be there with his kind words and his irreplaceable and kind of ridiculous sense of humor. A lot of the reason she had grown from the girl she was a year ago to the woman she is today was because of him. Whether she liked it or wanted to admit it or not, he had had a huge impact on her. She wasn't even sure if she would still be alive to sort this all out in her brain right now without him. And one day, that was just gone.

His checking up on her minimized, and his presence seemed to slowly fade from her life. The worst part was that she couldn't really put a name on the way that made her feel; she didn't really like the fact that she had felt... whatever she felt in the first place. So she kept the mixture of pent up emotions in the back of her mind, drowned herself in the latest evil she and the pack were fighting against and pretended as though all that had happened, all those feelings, all the pain she felt from that constant presence disappearing from her life just didn't exist. It was easier that way.

Adding salt to the metaphoric wound she didn't even want to have, the reasoning for this was because another girl was hogging all of his attention. That wasn't to say that she felt bitterness toward Malia because she didn't. She couldn't be mad at anyone really but herself, if she was choosing to get angry. He had moved on and rightfully so, but she had gotten used to him; he had been her person, and then he just disappeared. It fucking hurt. Burying away her feelings was something she had convinced herself was the right thing to do. It would have been selfish to speak up when he had finally moved on and it put a new meaning to "wanting what you can't have." The absolute last thing she wanted was to come across as though she wanted him now just because she couldn't have him when it was deeper than that, their connection was deeper than that. Lydia's never been a beggar, and she wouldn't start petty love triangle drama when she had no right to be doing so in the first place. It hurt like hell though, allowing all of the feelings she had to fill her mind, making her feel as though she was drowning in the same emotions she had desperately tried to keep beneath the surface and flat out ignored. Even when Stiles and Malia had broken up, apart of her was still holding back. Maybe it was because she had never felt an emotional connection this deep or because she felt guilty knowing that Malia had dated him.

Her and Malia. They weren't very close, but she still cared for her and didn't want it to come off as a betrayal. This was all the more reason to continue to hide from one of the scariest things she had ever been forced to face. With Jackson and Aiden, she had never had that friendship beforehand. She never had that security and the connection that made things feel so much deeper than just the physicality of the relationship. With Stiles it was so intense, as if all of the thoughts, feelings, and emotions might swallow her whole. Something this deep would make anyone want to run.

Things would clearly never be the same if she spoke up. For so long, it had seemed evidently clear to any outside witness that she and Stiles were never going to happen. Of course, that was only directed at those who hadn't been there, hadn't heard their conversations, or felt those "meaningless" touches. But Lydia knew better; she was the other half of this and experienced it with him. She was the one who chose to ignore what she felt, something that grew slowly over time which led up to this very moment, this questioning, and honestly, the slight heartache she physically felt ache within her. Lydia Martin did not cry over boys. She had pushed away that cliche idea after her relationship with Jackson came to a pitiful end. She would not allow herself to be some blubbering mess over a stupid guy, especially when most of the stupid guys in this world weren't worth it.

But this was different. Stiles was different, and that's what made her green eyes become vaguely glossy as these thoughts consumed her. She was just so unsure and so questioning of how to move on from this point. She had no idea what the right thing or the wrong thing was anymore. Honestly, she wasn't even sure what was right or wrong anymore in the first place. Because her and Stiles? At one point in time in her mind, the concept made no sense. And somehow he had made his way into her life, had slowly took over her thoughts to the point of her forcibly burying them deep into the back her mind, and now had her questioning everything. Damn Stilinski. Damn him.

Stuck with more questions than answers and gaining a brief moment of confidence, she found herself sitting up on her bed. She stood, grabbed her phone and her bag and made her way down the stairs of her house. She only realized she was practically running when she nearly ran into the door and with a small laugh, she realized Stiles would have run straight _into_ the door. Somehow that only made her heart melt a little more. Quickly, she made it to her car and put her keys into the ignition. She really had no fucking clue what she was doing. Of course, logically, if she looked deep enough into it, she actually knew exactly what she was doing. But even as is, it was probably one of the most abrupt, insane decisions she had ever made, at least when it came to her heart.

The entire drive, although only five minutes away, felt closer five hours. She was about to very stupidly put everything on the line for a guy she wasn't even sure still felt anything for her. Stiles never pressured her, and he had backed off and retreated when he realized she hadn't returned his feelings months ago. Except, horrifyingly, she had returned his feelings; she was just way too terrified to face it let alone admit them to him. Finally arriving to his house, she pulled into his driveway. It looked like his dad was out, but his jeep was there. She let out a nervous breath, her hands latched tightly on the steering wheel still despite the fact that her car was still set in 'park'. They were practically shaking. One last breath, and she took the keys out of the ignition and opened the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

She nervously held onto the railing beside her as she made her way up the stairs and breathed heavily. It wasn't that she was nervous of Stiles; he would never in a million years hurt her. Even if he hadn't returned the feelings any longer, he would never flat out reject her and send her on her way. Despite that, she knew she would feel completely humiliated if he were to reject her, even if it had been done in a considerate manner. Imagine finally building the confidence to face this, to tell him, and then have it be thrown back at her. That would suck.

With that thought, she really did try not to have any expectations. Of course that was nearly impossible, but she tried her best to acknowledge the fact that there was a possibility that she could walk out of here with her heart broken, and she would just have to accept that. There wouldn't be anyone else to blame. When she finally came out of her thoughts, she realized she had been standing at the door for at least two minutes and hadn't even knocked. If anyone saw her, they probably would have thought she was some nutjob. She supposed nutjob went hand in hand with banshee. "Here goes nothing," She mumbled to herself. With a shaky breath she knocked on the house door, and waited for an answer.

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